The Hunger Games: Ice-Blue Sapphire
by Firesplash
Summary: Many years have passed since the time of Katniss Everdeen. You thought it was all over, didn't you? But no, President Snow's great-grandson, President Shard, sets it off again. And what happens when, for District 11, Sapphire Colburn is reaped, along with someone she hates? Will love blossom between the two, in a place where they need each other to survive?
1. Chapter 1

I drop into a steady crouch, careful not to make a sound. It takes a bit of an effort to hold my spear above the dirt forest floor, but I do, and, when I near the stag, whose head is lifted proudly, but turned away, I rise, poised to hurl my spear. But, for a moment, I am frozen as I gaze at the wild, beautiful form of the young stag. Shaking my head, I throw the spear, striking the stag where I had aimed: in the back of its neck.

The stag falls to the ground, letting out a moan as its chest finally stills. "Well done." A voice sounds in my ears, and I pull out the spear, turning just a little to see that it was my close friend, Shade, that had spoken. He gazed approvingly at me, his dark eyes shining in the dim light, his black hair smooth.

"Thanks." I smile at him, accepting his praise. My brilliant ice-blue eyes, the cause of my name being Sapphire, gleam. Well, Shade was as close to a friend as you could get. He was my hunting partner, and, other than my ten-year-old sister, Dianne, I probably cared for his safety the most. He was just a companion, and I doubt we could ever get any closer than just friends. He knows that, too.

I brush a strand of dark hair out of my face. Though I am built for the spear, Shade just uses a few knives to hunt. He throws quite well. He's just a year older than me; I'm thirteen and he's fourteen. He holds up a squirrel. "Let's go and sell what we've caught."

The two of us belong to District 11, the district of agriculture. However, Shade and I have to hunt for our families, illegally, as we are not aloud to keep even a grain of what we grow. Normally, we trade with the baker, for a few buns, or with Scarlet, the woman who sells us a bit of soup.

It's brightening, almost morning as the two of us emerge back into District 11. I take a step forward, toward the baker's store, but Shade pauses for a moment. "I almost forgot!" he exclaims.

"What?"

"Today's the reaping for the Hunger Games!" he says, his eyes dark. Neither he nor I approves of the President's practices: sending twenty-four tributes, two from each district, to fight to the death in an arena. Sighing, I stride forward, pausing only when I reach the baker's store. I sniff the air, and the aroma of warm, baked bread fills my nose.

"What've you brought today?" The baker, Gust, is already waiting at the front, his green eyes brightening as his gaze fixes on the limp stag. Taking the dead animal from me, he tosses a loaf of bread my way. I catch it, and I marvel at this. Normally, he would never give that much for my kill. Shade is holding three buns for his squirrel.

"I guess everyone's in a good mood," he mutters in my ear. He gestures to the field, where the people seem to be more cheerful, singing louder than usual, as they work. "For the reaping."

"Oh," Gust sighs. "May the odds be in your favor."

I roll my eyes. _More like, may the odds_ ever _be in your favor,_ I think. That's what everyone would say. All I can process is, I hope I'm not chosen. Or Shade, for that matter. I feel sorry for those tributes who are sent away every year. It must be horrifying to be forced into an arena where you have almost no chance of surviving. Every year, my sister and I watch through the screens as twenty-three out of twenty-four tributes die in terrible conditions.

I wish that somehow, these games would end. But that's impossible. Right?

oO0Oo

I live with Dianne and no one else in a rusty cottage that you could call our home. Our mother died when Dianne was only six, and our father died before either of us was born. I smile as Dianne shoves the final chunk of her bread into her mouth and stands up. "What are we going to wear?"

That was another problem. The Capitol and President Shard expect each person to wear something beautiful on the reaping days. In fact, it's even worse than the older days of Katniss Everdeen. You would have thought that it all ended because of her, but no. President Snow, who was the president during her time, had a great-grandson, President Shard, who set it off again.

And even worse than before. Earlier, if you were between the ages of twelve and eighteen you were eligible. Now, President Shard has altered it, so that anyone between the ages of nine and twenty can be chosen.

Dianne was still looking at me expectantly as I thought about what she had said. I went into a corner that we use as the bathroom and filled the tub with warm water. "Go on. Wash up, first." Dianne nodded to me and stepped into the tub, closing the dark curtain behind her. While she's doing that, I walk to the small closet we have. I grin as my ice-blue gaze lands on a dress that was now too small for me. I hoped it would fit Dianne, for it was the best she could get.

The dress was a pale green, with a jeweled hem and short sleeves. It had a sash at the back, and would easily come down to Dianne's knee. _Won't she be surprised,_ I think, laying the dress just outside the tub and finding a pair of Dianne's shoes for her.

I turn back to the closet, pulling out a plain black dress for myself, which used to be my mother's. It comes to a little lower than my knee. I pull out two identical black shoes for myself, as well, and wait for Dianne to come out.

It's not too long to wait. Dianne pokes her head out and widens her eyes as she catches sight of what I had laid out for her. "For me?" she asked, sounding as excited as a five-year-old. I nod, and she gives a little delighted jump before draping it over her head. As she steps out, I am momentarily taken aback at how my younger sister looks.

The pale green matches Dianne's green eyes perfectly, bringing out their beauty. Her light brown hair is similar to the color of the shoes I had laid out. I must say, the two of us look _nothing,_ absolutely nothing, alike. I tie her long hair into two braids and smile at the excited look on her face. "I'll do the rest myself, Sapphire," she says. "Thanks. You go and get yourself ready."

I step into the tub, refilling it, and strip off my clothing. Momentarily, I enjoy the feel of the warm water more than anything; then, I remember that today is the reaping, which brings more worry rushing into my mind.

My fingers fumble clumsily with the black dress as I slip it over my head and step out. I slide my feet into the black shoes and breathe in deeply.

Normally, I really don't care about how I look. But this is the first time I have worn this, and in spite of myself, I cannot help smoothing the cloth and enjoying the swishing feeling of the dress around my legs. I tie up my jet-black hair into a high ponytail, as I always do, and it comes to the middle of my back.

As I join Dianne again, I help her tie the sash in the back and smooth the top of her light brown hair.

The escort of District 11 is Augusta, a brown-haired young woman with streaks of blue in her two short pigtails. She's always cheerful, which sometimes irritates me. I turn to Dianne. "Dianne?" My ten-year-old sister turns toward me. My lips curve into a smile. "May the odds-"

" _-ever_ be in your favor!" The two of us finish the common phrase together. _I just hope so. Not me, not Dianne, not Shade._

Dianne beckons with her left hand as she heads out the door. "Come _on,_ Sapphire!"

 _How can she sound so excited?_ "No. Wait. Look here." I grab her shoulders and spin her around to face me. "It's not some _fun_ _thing_ that goes on every year. You can't sound so cheerful and excited."

"I know! I'm just nervous!" Dianne exclaims, sounding a little startled by my suddenly urgent tone. I loosen my grip on her, and she nods to me before walking out, where most of the district is already assembled, waiting.

Augusta and the only past winner from District 11, Ashe, are already on the podium, ready to speak. Ashe is gray-eyed with reddish hair, and he waves to the crowd. "Welcome to the 96th anniversary of the Hunger Games! We all want to learn of the lucky tributes..."

"How _very_ lucky," I mutter, to no one in particular. Someone squeezes my arm, and I turn to look into the face of Shade.

"Hey."

"Hi," I return. I have zoned out; the rules and terms of the Hunger Games are said every year.

Shade eyes me. "Nice dress."

"You too," I say, staring at his black pants, red shirt, and black jacket, that, of course, is lined with a few knives on the inside. The reaping is the only place where I do not take my spear with me.

Suddenly, I turn and face forward again as I hear Augusta. "...so, ladies first!" That's how she always starts, by announcing the female tribute first. _Not me, not Dianne. Not me, not Dianne..._ I hold my breath as she draws the slip of paper and reads out a name. An all-too-familiar name.

"Sapphire Colburn!" Augusta announces.

It's me.


	2. Chapter 2

It's a jolt. At first, the name sounds like a stranger's, coming from Augusta's mouth. Then, I feel Dianne's small hands clutching the back of my dress, and it hits me. _It's me,_ I realize. _They've chosen me._ From behind me, I hear Dianne whimper. "Sapphire, no!"

I break away from my younger sister, forcing myself to push back the tears that have started to form in my eyes. Then, I see Shade, his brown eyes startled, betraying shock. "Go on, Sapphire," he urges, taking my sister by her arm. "Good luck."

"Shade, take care of Dianne" is all I can say before I am pushed to the front. I clench my fists in determination. _I have to win this._ My ice-blue eyes are dark and shocked as I step up onto the podium. _I'm participating in the Hunger Games._ I have to tell myself that over and over before the thought is set and fixed in my mind. My gaze hardens as I shake hands with Augusta and stare at the rest of District 11 that stands below me.

"Welcome, Miss Colburn!" Augusta says cheerfully, smiling brightly. "It's a great honor."

I grit my teeth. "I prefer to be called Sapphire," I say.

The District 11 escort looks taken aback by the anger and hardness in my voice, but she shrugs it off and turns back to the crowd. "And, for our male tribute-" I watch as Augusta gracefully plunges her hand into the bowl and draws out a slip of paper. Her voice is clear as she reads aloud the name. "-Hyacinth Ashton!" I stare in undisguised horror as a green-eyed, brown-haired boy takes on a startled look as he steps to the podium.

 _No!_ I think. _Not him!_

Hyacinth and I have been at odds for a long while. He developed a hatred for me because I was present during the accident that killed his mother, who fell from a ladder while at work. And I have disliked him ever since he made friends with a girl named Styra, whom I found extremely rude and selfish, who died a while ago. Silly? Well, it has sparked so much anger between us.

And I can't help but think that he's looking forward to watching me die. At least I know that _I_ would never take it to _that_ extent, to see _anyone_ from my district die.

His green eyes reflect the hatred that is clear in mine. I can't believe my luck. _No, the odds are not in my favor._

From below, I can see Shade shooting me a sympathetic look. Dianne's face is red, and tears are streaming down her cheeks. I can't help but feeling sorry for her. It had happened to me, too, before, when our mother died. Dianne would be too young to remember, but I recall it clearly. It was painful to lose a family member, especially our mother.

Our mother was a kind soul, who was always comforting. I remember the way her green eyes, so much like Dianne's, used to shine, and the feel of her soft blonde hair on my cheek. It was heartbreaking to lose her. I remember that very day...

 _She was lying in her bed, gasping for breath. I had never been a true healer, but I knew most of the wild plants and their uses. We even had a store of plants in our little cottage. Our mother's gasps grew to screams, and those were the ones that jolted me awake that morning. I was instantly by her side, my hand gently placed on her chest._

 _"What is it?" I had asked. It was clear she was in pain, from the way she had gritted her teeth and screamed._

 _Instead of replying, my mother let out a wheeze, short of breath. My eyes widened, unsure of what to do. Taking charge hesitantly, I had called Dianne, who was beside me in a moment. Though she wasn't as knowledgeable of plants as I was, she knew the basics. I couldn't tell what the problem was, but I just told her to fetch ginger._

 _As soon as she had gone, my mother pushed herself to a sitting position. "Don't... bother," she had gasped._

 _"What?" I had said._

 _My mother let out a raspy, faint sigh. "Death..." My heart sped up at her words as she spoke again. "...don't worry... I will always be with... you..." Just as Dianne returned, panting, a few roots in her hands, she fell back, and her heart still, her chest never to rise and fall again._

 _Dianne had let out a wail. "It was my fault! I was too late!"_

 _It took me a while to comfort her. "No, Dianne. I couldn't have been any faster. You did your best, and I doubt the ginger would even have helped." Then, I paused. "I've never seen anything like that before."_

 _I had to stay calm and poised for Dianne, pushing back the cry that rose in my throat. But it was hard to realize that I would never see her again._

I blink back tears at the memories, and force a smile for the watching District 11 people. My blue eyes gleam, sad to know that I would probably never see any of them again. Shade... Dianne... no one. The Hunger Games are simply deadly, and there's a twenty-three out of twenty-four chance that you won't survive the dangerous arena.

Dianne stares up at me with a look of pure horror on her face. Her arms are outstretched, reaching toward me as though she could pull me back like nothing had happened, and my name hadn't been called.

I wish that were the case. Mentally, I reach out toward her, but I know I can never reach her now.

Hyacinth's green glare bores into me. He seems to be saying, _now, we'll settle things._ I don't know whether to be afraid of his silent threat or to take it as a challenge. I don't want to kill anyone. I find the Hunger Games unfair, you know. But since it's 'kill or be killed', I don't know if I have a choice...

 _Save it,_ I glare back. The two of us stand next to each other as Augusta continues to speak on and on. Then I sigh. Under my breath, I whisper, "Save your hatred for someone else." My whisper grows bitter. "Chances are, someone else will kill me first."

Hyacinth takes a step away from me, a little startled by my comment. Then, he whispers back. "Or I will. You'd deserve it, anyway."

I shake my head. "If you want a fight to the death, you can have one, Hyacinth."

"With pleasure, Sapphire."

As the two of us stop interacting, my thoughts float away. _What will the conditions be like in the arena?_ I think. Of course, I have watched the Hunger Games every year, and I would know, but some parts just change every year, and I have never been in the Hunger Games before.

I try to think back to some of the conditions that are in all the arenas.

 _Water._

There's at least one main source of water in the arena, but if you're clever, you'll be able to find another. There's no fixed place where the water is, as the entire arena's man-made. The place changes every year.

 _Forest._

Parts of the arena are forest, while some are just open air and moorland.

 _Poisonous plants._

In almost every Hunger Games that I have watched, some unlucky tributes gets faced with poisonous plants or berries, and while some are smart enough to recognize these as dangerous, others are not so lucky.

As I think of more and more dangers that could lurk in the arena, I find that my heart is speeding up, and my fists are clenching involuntarily.

 _Well, let's see... I'm pretty sure I could recognize the plants around there... and I'm a pretty good climber. I'm used to hunting amongst forest... but what if I die of no water? Or what if I'm preyed on by some wild animal? And, for sure, I'll be attacked by other tributes... the only thing I'm good at is a spear, but what use is that against brute force, or... bow and arrows?_

I clamp my teeth together to hold back a worried cry. Just looking at Dianne's face gives me a bit of hope. _Don't worry, sister, I'll try to win. At least, for your sake._

It's clear that Shade is struggling to stay calm. And so am I. It's not exactly easy to maintain the knowledge that you're going to die.


End file.
